


51 Days of KorsePoison

by all_of_the_trash



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: AUs, AUs everywhere, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-24 13:47:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12014037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_of_the_trash/pseuds/all_of_the_trash
Summary: from a prompt by @jetstars, because this fandom needed it





	1. list of prompts




	2. my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 1  
> prompt: Admire  
> AU where BL/i mandated medications for S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W officers disable the cones on their retinas, causing them to only see in shades of grey. Title from Sound of Silence by Simon and Garfunkel.

The world was still.

Left behind. The chip in his skull had gone dead, conveniently in the middle of the desert after losing his newest band of dracs in a clap. No one would ever find him out here.

Well, no one he had known before.

_"Hey P, you are not going to believe this shit." Korse was too tired and in pain to even open his eyes. He assumed, however, that the voice must be from the younger of the two brothers who ruled the desert, Party Poison and the Kobra Kid._

_"Kobes?" He was right. It happened often. "Holy shit, how long has this fuckazoid been out here?"_

_Korse felt himself being prodded with the steel toe of a boot, jerking into a violent coughing fit when a cloud of dust found its way into his lungs._

_"HE'S ALIVE?! Kobra, we can't stay here. They'll be tracking him."_

_A pause, evidently full of silent conversation. "They can't track him this far out. Besides, a couple more hours and his tracker will die. We could keep him. Let him start over."_

_"Kobra- you know I want to but-"_

_"Poison. We have to."_

That was three months ago. The brothers and their crewmen- the short one and the flagbearer, had kept him in their combined sight at all times. Except for now, a rare moment of peace when Poison, the night watchman, had dozed off.

The world was still.

It was only a bit before sunrise, so Korse resolved to brave the last minutes of the bracing desert cold as best he could, curling into a tight ball and burying the point of his nose between his knees.

Suddenly there was something wrong. The prickles of fear- yes, that was a familiar one that did not take its time to come back- began to thread through his belly and lungs. Korse shut his eyes tighter but only saw it more. It was warm without being tactile, bright without being real, familiar without being remembered, it was-

Color. There were colors before his eyes, even when closed, and he could not force himself to open them. Korse did not know which he feared more, that he would open his eyes and the color would be gone, or that they would be there and bolder than he would know how to deal with. For what do we fear more: the unknown or the possibility of life without it?

Korse placed one hand over his eyes, uncurling his body slowly. He began to open his eyes, adjusting to the dark behind his hand. Gently, he pulled his hand away, focusing only on his fingers. His skin was... white. Gray tinted. Same as it always had been. He pulled his hand further away from his face, progressing slowly. Sleeves were white, tinged with something else. Something he couldn't even remember the name of. Jacket was... gray. And darker gray. He closed his eyes, pressing down the heels of his hands into them as if to push away... whatever this was.

Unfortunately, pressing into his eyes only caused more bursts of color and light that confused and frightened him more. He let out a soft whimper, forgetting where he was. Next to him, there was a sharp snore and the rustling of movement, oh god, why did he have to open his mouth, why did he have to be opening his eyes, and-

Oh.

Eyes still swimming with bursts of artificial light, Korse struggled to blink away the image, still half-hoping it wasn't real. It was Poison, still, but so much more- real. Alive. Even just his hair moved with his body as he dozed, teeming with life and rebellion as if each strand was just another smaller Poison itself. Only one word could fill his mind as he gazed in wonder at the sleeping beauty.

Red.

Well, two words. Somehow the hair, the color, just made him think "red". However, there was a second word, which was really more of an idea or concept than anything. It was- so many things that could hardly be contained to one word, one experience, yet seemed to be unique to the person sleeping next to him.

Love.

Korse blinked slowly, as if impressing the-  _red_ \- strands onto his memory by photograph. Where there was color, there was love; and the color of Korse's love was red.

Yet the world was still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was red and yellow and green and brown and scarlet and black and ochre and peach... ;)


	3. remember how I found you there, alone in your electric chair?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 2  
> Prompt: Blush  
> High school AU. Korse is a shy nerd and Poison is a weird kid who "adopted" him. They're on their way to a Halloween party. Title from You May Be Right by Billy Joel.

"Look, Poison, you're a really great friend but there is no way this is a good idea."

Poison rolled his eyes. "That's exactly why we're doing this, motherfucker. Anytime something fun happens, it's after you tell me it's a bad idea."

Korse huffed, a little pathetic and a lot adorable. "I am not letting you put me in drag!"

Poison reappeared in front of his chair, paints and powders of varying unnatural colors in his hands and a brush tucked behind his ear. "For the last time, it's not drag. I'm just turning you into David Bowie."

Korse sunk deeper into Poison's desk chair, grumbling softly. "Alright, just don't fuck me up."

Poison squealed- actually fucking squealed, and arranged all the makeup on his desk. Korse sighed and closed his eyes when the smaller boy drew a line in concealer across his forehead to mark where the wig would end, trying to settle into a more neutral mental and physical position.

Suddenly, there was a cold brush dabbing spots onto his face, and he jolted in shock. Seriously, how did Poison do this to himself so often? He opened his eyes only to blink a few times, to give himself a movement to focus on instead of the steady, careful brush strokes across his face.

Sensing his distress, Poison paused for a moment, letting Korse adjust as he separated his truly daunting supply of equipment. After a few long seconds, he picked up a dark scarlet lipstick and held it in front of Korse's eyes. "I'm gonna use this to contour your forehead, okay?"

Korse nodded before closing his eyes again and sinking into the chair, forcing himself to relax. There was really no need for him to be scared around Poison, they were friends, close friends. Almost something more. Something Korse very unhelpfully realized when Poison, evidently not satisfied with his blending sponge, reached out and caressed the lipstick stains with his thumb.

Really, his brain was just torturing him at this point.

The process continued, Poison would point out a part of the picture, then the tool he would use to replicate it, then dive into recreating the art on Korse's face. Each gesture became more and more intimate, culminating in the gold something-or-other lipstick that Poison applied to his rough and chapped lips- not with a brush, but with the soft pad of his middle finger. The soft pressure was so close, so real, so raw and powerful that had he been born a butterfly he still could not have matched the beauty and delicacy of the gesture. He nearly let out a sob when he felt the boy leave his side, too emotionally charged to even open his eyes to see where he had gone.

There was a soft brush of fingertips on one side of his face, into which he possibly leaned a bit too hard. It was torture, he could hear in the change in breathing and the soft  _pop_ of his lips that Poison was smiling. That  _motherfucker_. The fingertips withdrew, there was more rustling, then the gentle pressure of the heels of both Poison's hands sliding down the sides of his face as he placed the wig. Korse was both satisfied and furious that it was over.

"You can open your eyes now, dumbass."

Korse leaned his head back, careful not to disturb the wig. "Don't wanna."

Big mistake. Korse suddenly found himself being spun in the chair and pushed away from the desk, probably towards a mirror. "Seriously dude, open your eyes."

Resentfully, Korse complied, immediately face to face with a glowing god that mimicked his movements, burnt orange hair and a matching lightning bolt covering half his face. Yet through the mirror, he couldn't look at just himself. Instead he stared into the space behind his shoulder, following the gaze of the redhead artist- no- fucking  _magician_ behind him.

The redhead- the one with actual hair anyway- was stunning even without his normal makeup and bearing a grin that could have blinded the sun. There was so much love there, that was probably just admiration of his own work, but for now Korse could imagine that it was him.

Confident to hide behind the glittery paint of another man's face, Korse allowed himself to blush. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't imagining the same reaction on the other face he caught through the mirror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually not that happy with how this turned out :////// it's going to get better I promise


	4. It's A Match!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4  
> Prompt: Shenanigans  
> This is at least the fifth time I've restarted this chapter.

_"When life goes wrong, do crazy shit to your hair"_. It was the most recently added picture on tinder user K's account. along with a string of pictures that were obviously taken by another person. Poison damn near licked his lips just looking at the guy- a little too skinny, but a full head of dark, soft-looking hair, a nose and jawline that could cut glass, and a thick wool overcoat draped over his bony shoulders. The pictures were artsy and pretentious, grayscale, profile, leaning against the safety rail on a bridge, but Poison still felt like he could maybe have a chance or a connection with the guy.

 _K. 19. Gay as hell._ Poison could work with that. He continued reading the tiny bio, shivering with excitement.  _Photo credit: Sacre Blue Photography._ Okay so he probably at least thought he had a sense of humor, based on that fucking awful pun. At least Poison hoped that was a pun and not a horrendous misspelling. He was almost bothered enough to google the photographer, just to be sure, but decided that investigating the hot guy in the pictures was just going to have to be good enough. He swiped right without even checking how far away the boy was.

After a few moments, Poison decided to check his own profile. The pictures were good; his little brother and his brother's girlfriend had helped a lot, all leather jackets and bright colors, the sign of Mars draped over him to contrast the ripped fishnets and sunflower-yellow lipstick.  _Poison. 17. Bi and genderqueer (he/him)._ Okay, nice and simple.  _If you're reading this I love you already._ WOW OKAY that needed work. He was just about to edit that out when a blank screen came up. And stayed up. And was replaced with another screen.  _It's a match! You and K like each other!_

 **K:  
** I'm not looking for a hookup.

 **Poison:**  
Most people introduce themselves first, but thanks for the honesty.

 **K:**  
Shit. Let me start over.  
Hi, I'm K but you knew that from my bio.  
I'm not looking for a hookup.  
Or a three-way, which you probably get asked for a lot. Or not. I don't actually know.  
Well I mean I'm not looking for a sexual kind of three-way.  
That came out wrong.

 **Poison:**  
I mean so did I the first few times so I think we're good

 **K:**  
Is that a sexuality joke or a gender joke?  
Because I wouldn't really get the whole gender thing, and I'm not exactly out at home.  
I mean...  
Wow every part of that message was worded poorly.

 **Poison:**  
It's nobody's job to understand the gender thing. I just picked a label and ran with it.

 **Poison:**  
No offense or anything, but why did you swipe right on me? I guess I'm just curious. Like, you're gay and I'm not a boy.

 **K:**  
Veritatem agere?

 **Poison:**  
Did my phone glitch or did you stop speaking English?

 **K:**  
No comment on that much.  
But the truth is I'm not actually 100% gay. I just say so because it's easier.  
It's more like, bi but not attracted to girls? Just, attracted to multiple genders but not necessarily all?

 **Poison:**  
Ply?

 **K:**  
Fuck if I know. So afraid of getting outed I can't even join the GSA at school. Just know someone's gonna find out.

 **Poison:**  
That... sucks. I'm sorry.  
My brother came out before I did, so I didn't have the same fear for myself. But when his girlfriend started to come out as trans...  
We were all expecting hell to break loose on her end.

 **K:**  
Did it?

 **Poison:**  
Not at the level we were all expecting. Of course girls have it much harder.

 **K:**  
I may not know a lot  
But if that was a penis joke  
I am going to block you

 **Poison:**  
...  
So let's assume that it wasn't

 **K:**  
You sicken and fascinate me.

 **K:**  
I was going to ask you on a date, actually  
And blocking you on our only means of contact so far would rather hinder my intention to do so

 **Poison** **:**  
So are we experiencing a dilemma?

 **K:**  
Of sorts.  
The fact also remains that I also have no date ideas in mind.

 **Poison:**  
Want to have the weirdest date of your life?

 **K:**  
Once again, I am sickened and fascinated.  
Weirdest date of my life... the bar is not terribly high  
Yet I feel that even if it were, you would find a way to exceed it

 **Poison:**  
Dress nice.  
I'm picking you up in my car, if you'll give me an address.

 **K:**  
Now? Have you overlooked the fact that it is currently 12:30 in the morning?

 **Poison:**  
Not in the slightest.  
We are going to the nearest McDonalds with a ball pit.  
Then I'll give you my number, so you can block me on here whenever you please.  
Sound good?

 **K:**  
You've already surpassed my expectations.  
See you in a few minutes.  
<3

_This user is no longer accepting messages._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "veritatem[ne] [tibi] agere?" = to tell you the truth? (Latin- a very loosely grammared idiom. 'ago' and its various forms are often used in this context to mean 'say' or 'tell' but it literally means 'send' or 'drive'. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.)


End file.
